


Listen Up

by Fitzrove



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, I REGRET NOTHING, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, it's only modern because i needed them to have cellphones lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 08:46:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17864168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fitzrove/pseuds/Fitzrove
Summary: Morse should've probably left his phone at home when he went to choir practice, but by the time he thought of it, it was already too late. (Goddamnit, Peter.)





	Listen Up

Peter had been pestering him all night, and the bastard really couldn’t wait ten bloody minutes to give Morse time to even begin to look at the messages after he finished choir practice. His phone kept buzzing again and again, and he suspected that it was partly because he hadn’t bothered to open what Peter had sent him after seeing what the first few were like. Peter really had _no shame_. Good God.

Just as the bus was about to arrive, his phone rang. Peter was calling. Morse didn’t find it in his heart to ignore the call - after all, he didn’t know for _sure_ what he had to say. Maybe it was actually something worthwhile. And he did like Peter’s company when he wasn’t being unnecessarily obnoxious.

“Yes?” Morse said into his phone as he stepped on the bus and showed the driver his card. He was greeted with a

“Morse”, Peter said, voice breathy and low, and _Morse really shouldn’t have been that gullible._ He knew Peter, so he should have known what this call was going to be about, even if Peter hadn’t pulled anything like this before.

“Oh my god, Peter”, Morse said, climbing up the stairs. Frankly, he was a bit horrified. “I’m on the _bus_.”

A very full bus at that. There were a couple of seats downstairs, but upstairs was so crowded that Morse had to walk to the very back and squeeze himself next to a middle-aged lady. The fact that Peter was breathing heavily right into his ear certainly didn’t make sitting down _less_ awkward.

“Are you coming over?” Peter asked, and Morse could practically hear the lazy smirk in his voice. He drew in a long breath, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands.

It was very hard not to think of Peter, lounging about on his bed or a chair or a bloody kitchen counter for all Morse knew, face and neck flushed red. Cigarette in hand, probably, but hopefully not - smoke combined with gasps and breaths so heavy couldn’t be healthy.

Morse felt a soft tingling warmth climb up his cheeks and to his ears. He glanced at the lady sitting next to him - she wasn’t looking at him curiously _yet_ , but Morse still pressed his phone closer to his ear and lowered the volume a bit. He really didn’t want her - or anybody, for that matter - to realise what kind of call he was in the middle of.

“I had to start without you, but I’m still up for grabs, if you’re on your way”, Peter said. “I can wait.”

“Yes, I kind of understood that”, Morse said. “I’m going home. It’s getting late and -”

“Come on. I’d be good to you”, Peter said, his voice a rough whisper. “You’re so pretty with those pouty lips of yours. Wish I could kiss them red right now, make you melt against me.”

It was kind of hard to say anything in response. Morse couldn’t think of anything witty, his mind was blanking out because Peter kept practically _moaning_ , and he was still on the _bus._

“... okay”, Morse said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. The lady next to him leaned away from him towards the window, probably not overly fond of his squirming. Peter had the audacity to chuckle into his ear. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“I know you like it too. Once we get it going, you’re not exactly the quiet type”, Peter said. “You really let the neighbours know how much you like my cock.”

Morse felt a twist in his gut. He _really didn’t need_ to hear anything that filthy spelled out to him _on his way home on a perfectly ordinary evening_ , and yet Peter provided it anyway. Morse crossed his legs and cleared his throat. He was almost certain of the fact that his whole face had flushed a bright red.

“ _Peter_ ”, Morse said accusingly, trying to hold on to what little he had left of his dignity. It was very wrong to go about their _very private business_ in a crowded bus.

“Oh, I like it when you say it like that”, Peter said. “Do it again.”

“Peter, please, _no_ ”, Morse said weakly, rubbing his forehead. “Why.”

The rest of the thankfully short ride went slowly - Peter whispering obscenities in his ears, Morse struggling to look like he wasn’t enduring the digital version of being groped under the dinner table. Shortly after Morse got off (the _bus_ ), Peter did too, at least judging by the way he kept muttering his name with varying degrees of intensity before falling completely silent.

“You’re still not coming over?” Peter asked, after his breath had evened out a bit, and after Morse had almost reached his flat.

“Peter, just because _you_ can’t stop thinking about sex for one bloody second, doesn’t mean everyone’s like that“, Morse muttered. “Jesus Christ.”

When Morse got home, he couldn’t do anything but collapse on his bed in a red-hot slump. He really wasn’t in the mood for Puccini anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually working on a bigger Jarse project right now, but when my brain lags out, it's nice to spend time on shorter pieces :D This is pretty shameless lmao.
> 
> Leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed! Feedback is very much appreciated.


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